


to the ones we loved and left behind

by essentiallyethereal



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Lots of Angst, Mental Health Issues, Rey Needs A Hug, Reylo - Freeform, They're both in a bad place, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Relationships, basically a short thing about how it doesn't always work out, brief mentions of poe/finn, but it ends on a hopeful note, i didn't forget about that haha, leia han chewie and snoke are also mentioned, no happy ending, with some weird prose space references cos idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-23 00:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23369677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/essentiallyethereal/pseuds/essentiallyethereal
Summary: not everything ends with a happily ever after.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	to the ones we loved and left behind

**Author's Note:**

> this is weirdly written and shorter than i wanted it to be and only briefly edited by me because i wanted to publish something without being overly perfectionist about it.  
> but anyway, enjoy! 
> 
> thanks for reading <33  
> \- soph

Maybe they were always meant to fall apart. Maybe it was fate, if such a thing existed. Maybe they’d always been star-crossed lovers, doomed by the universe and destined to die in each other’s arms.

* * *

They met in a cinema, the theatre empty besides the two of them; separated by rows and rows of grey chairs, awkwardness and social anxieties. A third of the way through, she got up, lonely and curious, and went to sit beside him, overly sugary drink, sweaty palms and all. He returned her awkward shrug and smile with ones of his own, unsure of what to do now. So they both pretended to keep watching the bright screen.

Instead, they watched the colours dance over each other’s faces, the stars in their eyes; he loved the way she laughed, even when it wasn’t funny (this opinion he voiced and was met with a shrug) and she loved the way he smiled his small, hidden smiles when he thought she couldn’t see.

The movie finished and still they stayed, in this haven of only chairs and soft lights and warmth, baring their souls to strangers. 

“Why are you here?” she’d asked, finally, because he wasn’t someone she expected to see at her favourite, dingy little cinema. Him, with his pale skin and long face, dark hair and dark eyes, tall and broad and in a fancy suit probably worth three times her student debt.

What she meant was  _ why are you lonely, like me?  _

“I needed to get out of the house,” he said. There was a story there, they both knew, but she did not press and for that he was grateful. 

“What about you?” She, with her sun-kissed skin and dazzling smile, lean and strong, with her determinedness and charismatic aura and snarky humour, should be with friends, lots of them, or a boyfriend (because surely she had one), not him and not here.

What he meant was  _ why are you lonely, like me? _

“I wanted to see a movie.” It was the truth but not all of it, they both knew, but he did not press and for that she was grateful.

They were strangers, except it felt like they’d known each other forever. 

He did not want her to go and she did not want to leave, but the cleaner was looking at them weirdly and “they’ll be worried if I don’t get back to them.”

“Who?” he asked as they both stood up and he followed her down the aisle and up the stairs.

“My roommates,” she said as they left the theatre and walked through the foyer towards the door that would end this, whatever it had been.

(Better than they’d both expected.)

“Oh,” he said, too quietly, and then she was running down the street with a brief, shouted farewell. He watched as she talked and embraced a man, hating the way he hated it. Then she was gone and he realised he didn’t know her name.

She hated goodbyes. Her feet were taking her away before her head caught up and by then it was too late, so she kept running towards her friend’s car and embraced him despite being upset, both of them apologising. Only when they were on their way home and she was dreading having to talk about it did she realise the mysterious man from the cinema was long gone and she didn’t know his name.

* * *

They met again in a library, a few weeks later. She came in to study, it was her last term and she was so close to graduating. He was there to work, sick of his parents’ house and sick of his workplace and, wow, he really needed his own home.

Both of them recognised each other instantly; it was awkward at first but so easy to fall into a companionable silence as they worked. The instant comfort that came with the other’s presence was scary but welcome, they were two broken people that came together as easily as binary suns circling each other in perfect balance.

She was swimming in books and textbooks, her notes a scribbled mess, bright pink and yellow post-it notes everywhere. He had his MacBook and a small Moleskine notebook filled with handwriting so neat it could have been calligraphy. Everything was tidy Excel sheets and a reasonable amount of Chrome tabs. 

It was all fine until she left. Packed up her things and left. He watched her go, words stuck in his throat and his head. 

She came back with Starbucks coffee, one labelled  _ Rey  _ and the other  _ Mysterious Stranger _ , apologising because she didn’t know what type of coffee he liked and soaking because it was pouring out there now. 

“I’m Ben,” he told her and gave her his sweater. 

“Rey,” she returned. “Thank you.”

And so Ben continued working and coding and sipping coffee that was too bitter but tasted so much better anyway while Rey scrolled through Instagram on her battered old phone until her mobile data ran out for the month.

“I should go,” she said with a sigh, glancing out the library’s window. The rain hadn’t ceased, it was a full-on storm at this point.

“How are you getting home?” he asked as he tidied away his laptop and things.

“Subway, probably,” she shrugged. “Or the buses. Depends.”

“What about the…” he fumbled with words, looking down at his hands. He knew his ears were turning as red as his face, hoping anxiously that his hair would cover them.

(She noticed. It was endearing and made him even more attractive.)

Her brow crinkled in confusion. “What?”

“The, uh, the man who picked you up last time. At the cinema.”

_ Your boyfriend?  _ was the unspoken question.

She laughed, then. “Poe? Oh, he and his boyfriend, my best friend, are out tonight.”

“Oh.” He felt stupid but she just smiled at him, amused. Then they came to the doors and it felt just like last time, except—

“Wait, I can give you a lift home.”

So that was how they ended up running for their lives through the raindrops and thunder towards his car. It was a sleek, beautiful black thing with an impressive engine and an elegant interior they were both making extremely damp.

Their hair stuck to their foreheads, her textbooks and his MacBook were probably ruined by the water, caffeine was still thrumming in their veins and they both felt the most alive they had in a long time. As he drove, they talked.

They talked about Rey and college and how she was studying Engineering and was very close to graduating. How she couldn’t wait to be free of education and stress and how she was dreading being a proper adult. They talked about Ben and his job and the stress of everything and how he needed his own place because of his parents. How his family was one big complicated mess and wanted to find his own path. How she’d made her own family because hers had left her. How their insecurities got the better of them. How similar they were despite all of their polar opposites. 

He dropped her off at her apartment. The clouds parted and sunlight streamed into the car; there was a pink post-it note with a phone number and too many smiley faces.

She entered her shared apartment, dripping wet and hungry but happy. She grabbed some toast and hot chocolate made with cheap, too-sweet powder when her phone pinged; there was already a message from Ben, with perfect grammar and punctuation.

Rey sent him another smiley face, and he sent one back.

* * *

There was a third and fourth time they met. And a fifth. And a sixth. The seventh was supposed to be a date on a Friday night, except Rey happened to work at Han’s garage on Wednesdays and Ben happened to be near it when his car decided to stop working properly.

Except he hadn’t told her Han was his father.

Rey didn’t understand ( _ how could you not want them when they loved you? _ ) and Ben was so tired of everything and he snapped (he didn’t mean to, he really didn’t, but  _ can we not do this right now? _ ) and she snapped back. 

All Ben could think about was the way his parents fought.

So they both let it go and she spewed a bunch of stuff about cars he didn’t understand and didn’t care to understand. He tried to be better, he would be better for her on Friday, he would, it was just hard. She would, too, she said. She’d try to understand where he was coming from.

They could be adults about this. They couldn’t let one small thing get in the way of what they had, the belonging they both sought. The soul-deep understanding of each other; a shared brokenness.

(Even if everything they knew said it wouldn’t last, all of their defence mechanisms screamed and protested and they tried so hard to ignore it because _ this would be fine and good couldn’t you see? _ )

His car would be returned to him on Thursday.

Ben was relieved when she still sent him a smiley face. Rey was relieved when he still sent one back.

Everything was fine.

* * *

They were together for two years and thirty-four days.

On the thirty-fourth day after their second anniversary, Ben was still not enough, making another decision and following the wrong path yet again.

On the thirty-fourth day after their second anniversary, Rey was left behind by someone she loved, again, and he never came back.

Maybe they were always meant to fall apart the way they’d been falling apart at the seams all their lives.

* * *

They came together so quickly, impulsively, like they were meant to be. An explosion in the stars, a supernova of love and pain and moondust. 

_ “I love you,” he said after knowing her for a month. It was true and he was so desperate for something good, for love, for a home, for her. _

_ “I love you,” she said in return, trembling because she was so scared of it all but this was everything and she belonged and she was loved. _

The threads between them had always quivered with the depth of their emotions; sometimes silver and gold and breathtaking with the love that shone through the broken shards of their souls, sometimes red and angry and shaking with the pain they’d built themselves upon, sometimes an ocean of blue and black with the sadness that chilled them to the bone; and sometimes blinding with the collision of their passion.

They’d always felt too much; they were made of storms and stardust and they were unstoppable. Colour bloomed at their fingertips, in their hearts and their souls and they shone amidst the monochrome nothingness.

And when they parted, the aftermath was so violent the stars collapsed and black holes swallowed nebulae like starving scavengers lost in the desert stretching to the ends of the earth.

When they parted, they left the galaxy shaking and scarred and empty.

* * *

Maybe it was the way Ben burned so furiously with pain and hurt and he was so, so lost. Maybe it was the way he’d felt oppressed by his family and the path laid out for him. Maybe he got so caught up in making his own path, he didn’t stop to consider the damage he was causing, didn’t stop to think she was the only thing he needed. Maybe it was the guilt of everything he’d sacrificed to get so far that stopped him from going back.

Maybe he would always be a selfish monster because he’d made himself that way.

_ “He’s going to use you until you’re nothing, he’ll rip you apart and throw you away,” she warned, screamed, sobbed.  _

_ “You don’t understand!” he yelled, trying to get her to understand. “This is everything, Rey, I need to do this, I can’t let this go!” _

_ He hated yelling and he hated the way tears stream down her beautiful face but why can’t she see how good this is? _

_ (Why can’t he ever do anything right?) _

_ “What about me, Ben? What am I if this is everything? Don’t you need me?” Her voice broke again and the sound ripped his heart out. But he knew he’d found his path, knew he finally had a purpose outside of his family’s legacy. _

_ “Come with me.” He said it softly, gently, couldn’t she see how much he needed her and this, too? “Please.” _

_ “Ben, don’t go this way—” _

_ “Rey, can’t you see how I can finally get out of—” _

_ “Your family legacy? An incredible family who loves and cares for you? Mine didn’t even leave me a last name!” _

_ “You can have my last name!” He hadn’t planned for it to come out like this, when they were both brimming and blazing with anger and oceans of hurt. “Come with me, Rey.”  _

_ She just shook her head and ran and he just wanted to feel like enough. _

Maybe Snoke was wrong and the ends didn’t justify the means anymore.

* * *

Maybe it was the way Rey repressed herself until she erupted in an explosion of ash and flame. Maybe it was the gaping hole left by her parents when they never came back. Maybe she had always been projecting in her care for him, she’d forgotten to care for herself. Maybe she challenged him too much, expected more than he could give, assumed she could bring him out of the darkness when she was still struggling.

_ “Ben…” She watched him helplessly. “Please, just—” _

_ “No.” He turned to her until she could see the flames of his rage eating away at the man she loved. “No, Rey. I’m not your fucking charity project.” _

_ She gasped, heart pounding, eyes and chest stinging. Is that what he thought of her? She was just trying to help, trying to do the right thing, trying to be strong for both of them and she was so, so tired. “You’re not— I  _ love  _ you, Ben, please—” _

_ “You don’t love  _ this _ and this is  _ me _.” His dark eyes had a glimmer of sadness in them. “Have fun at my parents’, Rey.” _

_ And then he was gone and she crumpled on the ground, struggling to figure out how they’d gotten to this point. She just wanted for him to be better, to come back to the light. She just wanted a normal family. _

_ Rey had never been happy on Christmas no matter how hard she tried, and this year was no exception. _

Maybe she wanted him to heal when he didn’t know how.

* * *

Maybe broken people couldn’t love.

Maybe they just needed to be better before they could give themselves to the other properly.

Maybe they’d been shattered further, recovery lost in wild space after the breaking of hearts.

But maybe they’d be okay one day.


End file.
